


Learn to Love a Beast

by hehkhatea



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (somewhat unintentional slow burn), Beauty and the Beast Elements, F/M, Role Reversal, Slow Burn, kind of disney
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-09-29 02:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17194553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hehkhatea/pseuds/hehkhatea
Summary: Never in Caleb Widogast's wildest dreams did he imagine that he'd have to break a curse by falling in love with a demon; but after his best friend is captured by said demon, he finds himself a prisoner to a surprisingly cheerful and cute beast.Beauty and the Beast!AU





	1. Provincial

“What’s the harm checking out one more shop?” Caleb said over his shoulder, much to the dismay of his companions. Astrid and Eodwulf were most displeased as they had agreed to go with Caleb around Zadash, expecting him to eventually give up after being turned away from some of the establishments in the tri-spire. The three of them were scholars of Soltryce Academy, a few weeks journey North of the bustling city they were visiting. Caleb Widogast wanted to find new books more than anything, his friends however-

“Caleb,” Astrid grabs at his shoulder, “We’re supposed to be on a mission.”

“Yes,” Eodwulf agrees. “Our mission to relax, for once in your life. Besides, you went into the bookshop yesterday and just looked, whos to say you won’t do it again?”

“You can look at books when we get back to the academy, my love.” Her arm wrapped around his. “In the meantime, I think we should find a pub and drink ourselves stupid.”

Caleb deflated a little, though he liked the feeling of Astrid’s arm around him. He was never quite sure where he stood with Astrid, she was a book he couldn’t read well. The same went with Eodwulf, one day they were best friends and the next he could barely tolerate Caleb. This was no different.

Astrid was pointing things out to Eodwolf and Caleb as they walked down the street and Caleb’s mind began to wander as his body went into auto-pilot. He thought about the book he sped read a bit of at yesterday, a story from all the way in Exandria; it was full of dragons and undead gods and best of all, a group of friends. It almost made Caleb want to be in a group like that, to be surrounded by comrades that would support him, care for him. Then the little voice in his head told him that he wasn’t worthy of such-

“Caleb,” Astrid got his attention again, she was beginning to sit down and was pulling him down to sit at a table in a dimly lit pub. There were already drinks in front of them, they must’ve ordered for Caleb. “Come on.”

“Lost in his thoughts again,” Eodwulf muttered. Caleb tugged on his collar awkwardly as he sat down and took the tankard of ale in front of him. It was different from what he was used to drinking in Rexxentrum, when the three of them would go to secret parties and socials. Caleb glanced around the pub, seeing a variety of people sitting and enjoying an evening drink. “What were you thinking about, Caleb?” Eodwulf inquired.

“Ah,” Caleb set his drink down. “Just about this book I read-”

“Nevermind, I should’ve assumed.” Eodwulf undid the collar on his cloak and took a longer swig of his drink. Caleb felt his shoulders hunch a little.

“Oh, don’t listen to him,” Astrid placed her hand on his. “Go on Caleb.”

Caleb winced a little. “Well it was just… so fantastical. There’s no way it was real.”

“Caleb, we perform magical acts beyond normal comprehension,” Astrid giggled, her nose scrunched up in such a way that chipped away at his chest a little. “What could possibly be so fantastical to you?”

Caleb was about to reply something self deprecating when Eodwulf interrupted. “Didn’t you say you knew someone that lived here, Caleb?”

He blinked, having to redirect his mood and thoughts. “ _Ja_ , I know someone, they’re a good friend of mine.”

“Spare us the jokes about how Caleb doesn’t have friends, Wulf.” Astrid warned as she took a drink.

“Fine,” Eodwulf rolled her eyes. “So are you going to introduce us?”

Caleb’s mind spun at the thought of Nott the Brave meeting Astrid and Eodwulf, and not in a very good way. His little childhood friend had made a name for herself as a thief, he couldn’t count the amount of times he had heard she had broken out of jail. He was always thankful, however, whenever she spared some money for him so that he could purchase some books or supplies for his spells. He was certain that they’d ostracized him more than they already do.

“Ah,” Caleb shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh?” The other mage challenged.

“ _Ja_ , I don’t think you’d like her.”

“Oh, so your friend is a girl,” Astrid said. “Should I be jealous?”

Caleb felt the heat rise up in his face, certain he looked redder than his hair. “Heavens, no. She, she’s just my friend. Nothing more.”

Eodwulf and Astrid smiled at each other. “Alright, we’ve teased Caleb enough,” Astrid took a sip of her drink. “This vacation will be insufferable if he sulks around all day. Tell you what, love? If _you_ want to go check out the bookshop, again, before it closes, right now, we’ll catch up with you later. Okay?” Eodwulf groaned in protest but Caleb nodded and got up from the chair. Before leaving, Caleb placed a kiss on top of Astrid’s head, she exclaimed “ick!” but smiled at Caleb as he left.

* * *

_“Well,” The huntress replied. “I’ve just jilted you from that jail cell, and you seemed to carry a large sum of money on you.”_

_“And now I give it to you.” The man said. She examined the bag he had tossed to her. There had to at least be 500 gold pieces in there. Did he steal it, or was it always his? He slipped into his dark blue and purple coat and cleaned his reunited glasses, the gold trim around the sleeves and buttons added to the regal way he carried himself. Make no mistake, despite being famished and dirty and completely disheveled, the former prisoner looked like a_ prince.

Caleb shut the book before grinning like an idiot. Of course he looks like a prince! He _is_ a prince! “This is far too good to be true.” He muttered. He didn’t like to indulge himself too much into romance novels, and he certainly would never show Astrid the elicit collection of particularly smutty ones that he hides under his bed at the academy, but the Chastity’s Nook had an extensive collection that he was starting to drown in.

“Oh, I agree.” The bookseller, Iva, replied. She stood next to him as he read, suggesting he read the first chapter. “I don’t want to spoil it for you, but when she discovers who he is? _Ah_! So. Good!”

“ _Ja_ , yes,” Caleb nodded. “I have to ask, however, is it…?”

“Oh,” Iva blushed slightly, which made Caleb turn red again. “Well it does get, _quite steamy_ , but the romance is the best part of it.”

Caleb nodded. “Then I’ll take it.” He went to his bag before Iva stopped him.

“Actually,” she smiled. “It’s yours, free of charge.”

“ _Was_ , whatever for?”

“Well, I don’t get very many customers that are quite so interested in guilty pleasures, and _Romancing the Whitestone_ is one of my favorites.”

Caleb felt a sort of lightness in his chest as he looked at the cover of the book and then back to Iva. It was a kindness that he was somewhat unused to; at least, not a kindness he had known in ages. “Well, uh… _Danke_ , thank you. I shall repay you in someway-”

“Oh just,” Iva went around the counter of her shop. “Just come back and tell me how you liked it.”

“I will. Good evening.” Caleb tucked the book into his bag as he slipped back on the streets. He was satisfied with his choice, fully prepared to head back to the pub where he left Astrid and Eodwulf. It was beginning to get dark, but the lamps on the street were slowly being lit. As Caleb adjusted his cloak he thought he spotted a pair of bright yellow eyes from a small alleyway across the street.

Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him, but if there was anyone’s eyes they could belong to, Caleb knew exactly who it was.

“ _Hallo_ , old friend.” Caleb greeted the being that owned the yellow eyes. With that, a small goblin emerged from the shadows. If one wasn’t paying attention, you’d never guess that  Nott was a goblin. To the average person, she just looked like a gnome or a halfling that’s seen some hard times, but Caleb saw through all the wrappings and grime.

Nott’s small frame darted out and grabbed around Caleb’s leg, gripping at his cloak. It had been some time since they last saw each other, and a feeling of clarity and relief washed over him as he picked up Nott by her upper arms and held her up to his shoulders so she could give him a proper hug.

“I’m so glad to see you, Caleb!” Nott’s nails-on-a-chalkboard voice spoke in his ear. “What brings you to Zadash? You’re not in trouble are you?” She looked him in the eyes with a wild sort of expression.

“ _Nien_ , no trouble, Nott.” Caleb chuckled. “My friends and I are taking a little sabbatical from the academy. We are simply here for fun.”

“Oh,” Nott’s wide ears lowered as she patted his shoulder. “Well that’s good. And, now that you’re here, we should go and get a drink. I have something important to tell you.”

Caleb put down his friend, letting her small hand pull him down the street. He almost forgot that he was suppose to meet up with Astrid and Eodwulf, but he was sure he wouldn’t really be missed by them. His friend took him down several streets, all with questionable lighting and patrons, until eventually they were outside of a bar called The Evening Nip. It was a pretty nondescript bar, nothing about it made it stick out in particular to Caleb, so he was a little confused as to why Nott insisted on going here. It was also practically empty.

“What can I get you?” The haggard bartender asked Nott as she skittered up the stool in front of him.

“I’ll have some of your cheapest, yet _strongest_ stuff.” She replies. “Oh, but I seem to be a little low on funds.” Nott gestured to her purse. Caleb was about to get his coin out when Nott continued to say “ _But I’d be willing to offer many gifts_.” The bartender nodded and tilted his head to the two men blocking a doorway. A part of Caleb’s brain lit up as he realised he just learned a secret, something new that only a select few people knew about.

The two of them descended down the stairs the men were guarding and entered the _real_ Evening Nip, a speakeasy filled with people of all sort of nefarious creeds. Caleb was excited, or nervous, it all made his stomach snake about. It was dark and musty and if Caleb was still wearing his full Academy uniform he was sure he’d be killed. Caleb could not hold his own in a physical fight, but he was in no condition to fight, period. His nerves were getting to hi hands as he flexed his fingers in his gloves, trying to stop them from shaking.

Nott found a table in a corner and came back with drinks for both of them. “Nott,” Caleb gulped. “What is this place?”

“It’s a bar, of course!” Nott clinked her glass with Caleb’s. “It’s not amazing, but it serves its purpose.”

“It’s purpose to serve alcohol and be a place to get rid of a body?” Caleb hissed.

“Now, I can understand why you don’t like this place,” Nott held up her bandaged hands in defense. “But the owner of this place, he’s given me jobs before-”

Caleb swore in Zemmnian, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But hear me out!” Nott continued. “I’m going on a job tonight. I’m to investigate an abandoned castle, about half a days trek out of town.”

Caleb’s hand left his face as he rested at his temple, willing to listen to what his friend had to say, though still very guarded. “A castle?”

“My boss,” Nott tilted her head to a doorway. “He wants me to loot about in a whole castle. Everyone believes it’s haunted or cursed.”

“How so?” Caleb couldn’t hide the fact that he was getting more and more interested, he could never resist a good story.

“Well,” Nott leaned in closer. “He said that some years ago, the whole royal family got cursed in someway. The princess was a bit of a troublesome brat and became a demon, literally. Killed her parents and all the servants. Others say she killed herself and the place is haunted. I don’t know the full story, but people that have tried to get in have either never come out or never got very far. The place is perfect for looting.”

Caleb winced. “A-and you want to go in there? After hearing all those stories?”

Nott took a big swig of her drink, so much that she practically finished it. “I’mm not afraid of eannthing, so long as I’m _drunk_!”

“See, if anything, that is _less_ reassuring, Nott.” Nott placed her hands over Caleb’s shaking one.

“Okay, I know what you mean.” She was being very deliberate not to slur her words. “As I said, it’s a half days journey, I should be back the day after tomorrow. You can panic after that.” Caleb shook his head before taking something out of his bag, a tiny copper wire.

“Do you remember that trick I showed you?” Caleb pressed the wire into Nott’s hand, it weighted practically nothing but it felt like it weight tones in his hands. “ _Message_ me, no matter if its good or bad news, _ja_?”

Nott nodded, taking the wire and putting it in one of her little pouches that lined her belt. The goblin then jumped onto the table and put herself into Caleb’s lap, hugging him. Caleb returned the gesture. The two of them spent hours catching up with Nott close to him. His nerves settled a little the more he drank and talked. He tried not to think about the fact that this could be one of the last times he sees his best friend.


	2. Ask The Dishes

Nott, the Brave often felt like her name wasn’t accurate, that the comma in her name was a mistype. There was, after all, very little about Nott that was brave. That thought solidified into her as she approached her destination. Her horse, Dancing Queen, had taken her far out of the city of Zadash and into frosty woods before her. It was almost spring, but the chill in this area loomed, as did the barren trees. Throughout the whole journey, Nott worried about Caleb more than herself; he had told her about his friends that he was traveling with and how their banter weighed on Caleb. Nott would take care of them if he asked, but he never would.

Nott was only doing this job for Caleb, working with the Gentleman for Caleb.

Dancing Queen was a smart horse and was also getting nervous, and Nott attempted to try and calm the horse as the gates of the castle came into view at the crest of the hill. The spiked fence had years of overgrown vines and weeds that had died in the winter, Nott figured they’d be perfect footholds to get up the fence.

As she tied the horse up to a tree and left food for it, Nott rubbed her hands together, getting some warmth back. She pulled out her flask and took a big swig before putting up her little half mask made from a doll. Slowly, she started to climb up the ivy, testing each grip to make sure it wouldn’t crumble in her hands. She was able to scurry up to the top, carefully wedging herself between some of pikes at the top. Her stomach dropped, however, when she saw the castle.

It was at the other end of a long bridge that has somehow managed to stay in one piece over the years. The castle seemed to be mainly comprised of towering turrets, a gothic aesthetic that stood out against the snow that surrounded the mountainous backdrop. She could vaguely see the gargoyles and demonic statues that lined the roofs and guarded the bridge. If that didn’t give any sort of indication that the place was cursed, Nott wasn’t sure what.

Nott didn’t like that it was so far away; she had spent all this time trying to convince herself that this was going to be good, now she had more time to talk herself out of it as she began to walk to the castle. It was starting to snow ever so gently, but the clouds above were moving at a fast pace. She didn’t have a lot of time before the possibility of being snowed in became reality.

The goblin hustled to the castle, noting the overgrown courtyard ahead was just as expansive and terrifyingly decorated as she had observed from a distance. The door knockers depicted a devil with a gaping maw and forked tongue, but all Nott cared about was making sure the door wasn’t locked or trapped. Not for long, that is. It was a bit out of her reach, but if she jumped she could place her feet on the other door and pull towards herself to open the door.

It gave little resistance as the door opened with a deafening creak. Nott moved her mask as she took another long swig before entering into the castle. Despite all the windows, most were covered by drapes and curtains, so Nott could barely make out the staircase on the other side of the foyer with the light coming out of the door. As she closed the door with all her weight, the castle settled and was silent.

Well,  _ almost _ silent. The wind had picked up outside, a low howling sound came from upstairs. The logical part of Nott assumed it was an open window making that sound, but other said ghosts. Gingerly, quietly, Nott pulled out her crossbow and began to cross over the threshold. 

The place seemed untouched, nothing tipped over or broken, but it was also suspiciously clean. Usually, abandoned places had a nice layer of dust or a lot of spiderwebs, this place had none. Maybe cursed places have better upkeep, Nott thought. The goblin snuck around the doorways as she started to investigate the rooms, finding faded portraits and all kinds of trinkets lining bookshelves. Nothing so far looked particularly expensive or shiny.

Much of the castle seemed to have a dark blue or red color scheme as Nott continued exploring, going through drawing rooms and dining rooms. The ballroom was the largest room on the first floor and it seemed too massive to have anything of value in it. She contemplated finding a way up to the crystal chandelier that was halfway to the floor, but it was too much of a risk to break it. As Nott closed the door, she saw something move. 

It was fast, faster than she could really perceive, but there was definitely something different in the hallway she was in. There was a small table below a painting that was hung on the wall, there were remnants of dead flowers around a vase and a small clock. It was sizable enough for Nott to pick up, and the mechanism was still intact and working. There was blue and jade inlay around the face, the decoration was one Nott could not place in origin.

“I would not do that if I were you,” a voice spoke above her. Nott almost dropped the clock as she jumped out of her skin. Frantically, she looked for who spoke, putting the clock down and aiming her crossbow down all the hallways and above. Her eyes then locked onto the painting; a gaudy dressed individual wearing a rainbow colored doublet and coat was depicted. The subject wasn’t human, though, they looked demonic; with their lavender skin, solid red eyes, and curling horns framing their face. Nott’s guard almost dropped when the man in the painting moved. “ _ Boo! _ ”

Nott screamed as she ran towards the front door, she was majorly disoriented from being drunk and by the sheer magnitude of the castle, being terrified didn’t help either. “Definitely haunted! Super haunted!” Nott was almost back at the foyer when she suddenly tripped and slid across the floor, her crossbow skidding away. She looked back at what tripped her and saw the clock she had left behind.

“Thieves aren’t welcome here.” The clock face grew blue eyes as it moved closer to Nott. She felt her hands shake and her eyes began to water.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Nott sobbed. “I knew this place was haunted! Oh gods, Caleb help!”

“Now, now,” a familiar voice spoke behind Nott. She turned and saw the figure from the other painting, but they were in a different painting. The style was somewhat different from the previous one, the brushstrokes more intense and messy. “This place isn’t haunted.” Their voice was somewhat masculine, but it was hard to tell based on the femininity of their clothing, which seemed more ostentatious in this painting than in the other.

“Like hell it isn’t!” Nott retorted. “Wait, why am I talking to a ghost? Better yet,  _ why am I still here?!” _ Nott got up from the floor and grabbed her crossbow before she bolted to the door. The door, however, was blocked by a monochromatic colored suit of armor. The head shook, two colored eyes glaring from beneath the helmet, but it wasn’t human eyes.

“Okay,” Nott turned back to the painting, seeing that the clock was standing before it. “What do you want from me? To tear my limbs apart? Stick my head on a pike? Imprison me forever?!”

The clock said “Yes.” while the painting said “Well…” The two of them glared at each other before turning back to Nott.

“Perhaps we can make an arrangement.” The painting said. “Surely our mistress heard your screams,” They gestured up the staircase to the rest of the castle. “And she’ll want to know about our  _ guest _ .”

“ _ Guest _ ?” The clock objected, it had a more feminine voice, though it was also harsh and gravely. “Molly you can’t be serious!”

“Of course I am.” The painting hunched into the corner of the frame, “I’m the lord of this estate.”

The clock scoffed. “You haven’t been the lord of this castle in centuries,” The clock turned to Nott. “She’s a thief, that makes her our prisoner.”

Nott felt her stomach flip, she couldn’t go back to jail again! She could only imagine what it a prison in this place would be like.

“Nonsense,” the painting, Molly, adjusted their coat. “We don’t take prisoners here, and we can’t throw her out into the snow, not when there’s this storm.” Nott glaced to a nearby window and saw that the snow was falling harder than it had when she came in. “Come along.” Molly exited left of the painting and ended up in another painting in the next room, they coaxed Nott over by curling their pointer finger.

The clock trailed behind as Nott followed Molly into one of the parlors that Nott had investigated before. The fireplace came to life suddenly as Nott walked in, she jumped a little again. “Are you sure this place isn’t haunted?”

“Haunted? No.” Molly stood at the painting above the fireplace, they draped themselves at the bottom of the frame, propping their head up. “Enchanted, yes.” A lavender colored tail swung behind them. Nott’s eyes lit up a little thinking about how Caleb would probably get a kick out of this place. Nott wasn’t as well versed in the arcane quite yet. “But, where are our manners? I’m Mollymauk Tealeaf, Molly to my friends, _ former  _ lord of this manor.” Their eyes landing on the clock that stood behind Nott. “That is Beauregard. Don’t mind her, she’s not very charismatic.”

The clock, Beauregard, didn’t really have a human face outside of the eyes, but Nott felt like she was giving a forced and fake smile.

“Make yourself at home.” Molly gestured to the armchairs next to fireplace. “Caduceus!” They hollered. “He’ll come and make tea. Do you drink tea?”

Nott was feeling a little overwhelmed, moments ago she was certain she was going to die, now she was being offered refreshments. She pulled out her flask and took a drink, feeling considerably sobered up. Molly looked taken aback for a moment, but then they grinned and seemed to look on Nott with respect and understanding.

“So,” Nott scrambled up the armchair, sitting on the edge of it. “You said there was a mistress of this castle?”

“Yes,” Molly sat down on the chaise lounge that existed in the painting they were in. “She tends to sleep in now a days. Poor thing.”

“Is she…  _ also _ , a talking furniture piece?”

Molly chuckled, their fangs on full display. “No no, she’s  _ much worse _ .” They looked upon her with their red eyes. They looked more muted in this painting, but there was an air of mischief and wickedness that she didn’t see in the others. The sound of a cart came from behind, she turned to see a pink and green floral teapot with a bunch of little tea cups roll in. There was no one pulling the cart.

The teapot turned, a cowlike face appeared on the side of it. “Oh,” a deep voice came from it. “Guests, that’s nice.” It levitated a bit as steaming tea went into one of the teacups, a black one with a feathered design. “Tea?”

The teacup jumped around a bit, splashing the tea around but it stayed in the cup. “ _ That’s nice _ .” The cup spoke like the teapot’s voice but in an old tone, almost forced.

“Yes, Kiri.” Molly agreed. “Our guest is very nice, aren’t you…”

“Oh,” Nott realized she never introduced herself. “Nott, Nott the Brave.”

“ _ Nott the brave _ !” The teacup repeated.

“Molly,” Beauregard jumped up to the mantle piece below them. “She’s gonna come down any minute and she probably won’t like that you’ve let a stranger sit in her favorite chair and drink her tea.”

“Oh nonsense, Beau.” Molly waved his hand nonchalantly. “She’s been so lonely recently, I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.”

The teapot, Nott inferred that it was Caduceus, peacefully sat on the cart while the little black teacup, Kiri, seemed too exuberant for a cup that should be still.

Nott hadn’t paid too much attention to the paintings around the castle, so she didn’t know if she had already seen what the mistress of the castle looked like. She tried to imagine what she looked like. Maybe she looked like Caleb’s lady friend, Astrid; she was beautiful and kind of perfect. A darker part of her wondered if the mistress was mean and ugly, like some of the prison wardens Nott had met.

The anticipation came to a head when the sound of hooves echoed from the staircase. The rest of the room became silent as the steps grew closer and a shadow came into view of the doorway. 

It had four large curling horns and piercing violet eyes and seemed to glow and catch the light from the fire, the square-ish pupils focusing intently on Nott. Dark blue hair and fur covered the sides of its face and arms. Large cloven hooves tapped lightly across the floor, the creature almost looked to be floating. As it rounded the couch, a thick tail flittered behind them, its point was almost heart shaped. The fireplace illuminated the creature fully to Nott and she was certain that she had soiled herself.

“ _ Molly _ ,” the creature’s voice was high pitched, having an ethereal quality to it. “What have you brought me?” If the creature, the  _ beast _ , was ugly or hideous, maybe it would not have seemed so scary to Nott. Nott had been afraid of her own reflection, sometimes. This beast, however, seemed almost human, and that was far more terrifying.

“A friend,” Molly replied. “Or, perhaps, dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to mids for proofreading and helping edit <3  
> also shoutout to the wj discord for listening to me ramble about this fic
> 
> hopefully i'll finish this before school gets too hectic, i'd hate for this to get lost in the sauce. i have plans for the next couple chapters.
> 
> comments and kudos are v much appreciated!


	3. Great Wide Somewhere

Caleb had hardly slept at all in the night following Nott’s departure from Zadash, barely keeping consciousness so that if he heard her message that he’d be awake for it. Eventually he did fall asleep, thought it was not a restful slumber. His nightmares of the event played over and over in his mind and every time he tried to will himself awake it would start over again. By the time the sun was beginning to rise, Caleb gave up sleep and got up to start his morning ritual.

The inn the three of them were staying was fine, nothing fancy. There was a basin in the corner of the room that Caleb went used to wash his face. Just to wake him up a little. The water was room temperature, but Caleb felt himself run warm from his feverish dreams. The little rusted mirror in front of him vaguely showed his dark, sunken eyes, his blue irises almost cutting through the grime of the mirror.

He should probably shave soon, a bit of dark red shadow was coming in around his face but he wasn’t trusted with razors anymore. Caleb ran his hand through his hair, feeling the sweat mix with his already greasy hair. His hair was getting longer than what should be allowed but if he tied it up it should be fine, he told himself. Astrid and Eodwulf had gone to the bathhouse in the area while he was out with Nott, after weeks of travel they were in need of a good bathing. Caleb needed to bathe too, but the idea of getting out of this room and subjecting his naked body to the looks of strangers made him sick.

Caleb had removed his gloves last night, the shiny pink scars did not hurt, but they were ugly and Caleb knew best to keep them covered up. All of his scars were. He quickly splashed some water under his armpits, untangling the hair that had matted with sweat. It was the bare minimum he could make himself do at this moment. 

He got dressed in his traveling clothes, not wanting to draw attention with his academy regalia, and left his room to head down to the tavern. There were a few other patrons that were having breakfast and an early drink, a couple also looked to have stayed there all night. Caleb knew he should eat, even if it felt superficial at the moment.

He thought for a moment that  _ he _ should message Nott to make sure she made it alright. The copper wire was in his pocket, he could do it like nothing, but this was an important mission for Nott, what if he messaged her and she felt like he didn’t trust her abilities. Despite her many arrests, Nott  _ was _ capable of escaping them, which is more than most rogues can say.

Caleb tried to take his mind off of it by pulling out one of his spell books and studying it. He had already finished  _ Romancing the Whitestone _ last night while he was waiting for Nott to message him, he greatly enjoyed it as the shopkeep had said he would. The food had been placed in front of him while he read, the most he ate was the bread roll, tearing pieces off and absentmindedly feeding himself.

Caleb could sense that time was passing as he read his spell book carefully, the tavern grew louder and the shuffling of chairs and boots became white noise to him. He didn’t even look up until Astrid’s snapping hand came into view of his book instead of the arcane circles of magic.

“Gods, you look awful.” Astrid chided, giving Caleb a worrying smile.

Caleb blinked a little, trying to get his bearings again. “A-And you look,” Beautiful, as always, he thought, but the words got caught in his mouth as he nervously sputtered at her.

She waited for him to elaborate, and when the words died on his tongue she almost looked disappointed, but she then picked up Caleb’s fork and began to eat his cold breakfast so Caleb assumed they were even. “We missed you last night, Caleb.”

“ _ Ja _ , I’m sure you did.” Caleb deadpanned.

“Caleb,” Astrid gave him a look he knew far too well. “I know me and Eodwulf kid you sometimes but we do like you. We wouldn’t have traveled all the way here if we didn’t.” She was sitting beside him, her hand was close to his gloved one. “ _ I _ , want to be here with you.”

“Astrid,” Caleb cleared this throat. “I can’t help but think that things have really changed between us.”

She smiled politely. “Whatever do you mean?”

Caleb didn’t realise that something had been tensing up inside him, and suddenly it snapped and Caleb was able to switch himself completely. “Please don’t feign ignorance, Astrid.” He was almost surprised by his own tone, but he could tell that Astrid was putting on the pleasantries. He could always see her tells. “I was… away for several years. We cannot pretend that everything is the same as it was before.”

Astrid’s eyebrows twitched to be half raised before it knitted into concern and worry. Caleb could tell when Astrid was hiding her disapproval, she always contorted her face in a way that made her face the opposite of how she was feeling. He chose to believe, for a moment, that her feelings were genuine.

In the long journey to Zadash from Soltryce, the two of them hardly had to time to talk, and even in time since Caleb’s return to the academy he had been dreading being intimate with Astrid. He avoided Archmage Ikithon at all costs, but still had to answer to him, and Eodwulf and Astrid had to convince Ikithon to take this sabbatical in the first place. But Caleb never saw it as a romantic getaway, barely as a getaway in general.

Astrid’s face softened as she went to hold Caleb’s hand, it rested at his wrist and gripped slightly. It caused his heart to skip a beat, but whether for fear or desire, he wasn’t sure. “You’re with us now,” She assured. “And we care about you, Caleb. Maybe it’s a different kind of care but it’s care nonetheless.”

Gods, Caleb wanted to believe her. He wanted to display his heart to his childhood friends that went through so much together, endured all the same hardships and for them to do the same. Doubt ate at his mind, however, and his chest felt tight as her thumb rubbed circles at the base of his wrist, in the sliver of exposed skin between his glove and sleeve.

“ _ Caleb help! _ ” Nott’s voice rang in his ears and his mind began to burn as he quickly took his hands away and clasped them together and putting them in between his knees. Astrid looked taken a back for a second before reluctantly accepting his skittishness, even as Caleb stood up in a flash. He grabs his book without really thinking about it, his mind is moving too quick, trying to think of what to do.

His mind wasn’t cooperating with his mouth, Caleb could only mumble and mutter an excuse to Astrid as he dashed out the tavern. Astrid tried to stop him but she ultimately let him go. Caleb could retrace his steps to the Evening Nip with ease. He kept looking over his shoulder to make sure Astrid wasn’t following him, he even checked archanely to see if she was tracking his movements, too. 

Once he was in the same empty pub, Caleb could barely articulate the password with his winded breath. He was reluctantly allowed in and he nearly tripped on his own feet going down the steps. The real pub was familiar and unfamiliar, as Caleb was now alone and didn’t really know what to do next except to ask anyone who would listen to where Nott was. Rarely did Caleb go into something without having a plan A in Common all the way through H in Elven, but at this moment he did the only thing he could think of and that was to get whomever was in charge to tell him.

Caleb could recall Nott mentioning a gentleman the other night giving her the job, but that wasn’t a lot to go on. Just looking around the room, Caleb could gather than there was almost no one that could qualify as being “gentlemanly”. He tentatively looked about the room as he wandered, trying to not look so suspicious. The room wasn’t nearly as packed as it had been that night, it was midday after all, but he was sure that he could be perfectly forgettable in the background.

There was a curtained off area that was sheer enough that Caleb could make out the figures sitting at a table behind it. It was dimly lit with candles and someone with a prominent blue color pallet was waving their arms about, the sound of cards shuffling. The other figure got up and started to lift the curtain away to leave when the revealed black tabaxi made eye contact with Caleb. He caught a glimpse of the card player and saw that his skin was blue, not just his clothes.

The tabaxi looked at Caleb quizzically, their ears pointing back slightly. The blue man saw Caleb was well and without a word gestured for Caleb to come towards him with a quiver of his ringed pointer finger.

If there was anyone that could fit the title of “gentleman”, it was this man. From is long slicked back hair and pointed facial hair. There was a persistent shine and sparkle to his cobalt skin, as if he had just emerged from a water pool. Many jewelled rings adorned his fingers, though his left ring finger seemed empty.

Caleb went to him, despite alarms ringing in his head. He sat across from the man, in the seat the tabaxi had resided.

“I’ve seen you before,” he shuffled his playing cards again. “You were in here with Nott the other night, no?”

Caleb nodded, not making eye contact. His eyes remained trained on the cards. It almost calmed him. Almost.

“Ja,” Caleb doubled down. “I was there.”

“What is your name?” his eyebrow quirked.

“Caleb,” he cleared his throat. “Caleb Widogast.”

“Well, Caleb Widogast. You may call me The Gentleman.”

The connection was almost disappointing to Caleb. He thought Nott was talking about someone who was gentlemanly, not someone  _ literally _ named the Gentleman. “Nott told me all about the job you gave her.” Caleb began, his hands clenched at his thighs under the table. “I have… reason to believe, that she’s in danger.”

“Why of course she is,” The Gentleman replied. “Much of the jobs I offer are dangerous. If they weren’t, I’d do them myself.” Something told Caleb that even that fact wasn’t true. The Gentleman looked aged, but not weathered; as if it had been many, many years since he last traveled and encountered danger.

“I mean  _ really _ in danger,” Caleb defended, losing his composure a little. “I received a distress call from her, you have to tell-”

“ _ I _ ,” the Gentleman put his cards down with decisive force. “Don’t  _ have _ to do anything.” With a slide of his hands his cards fanned out over the table, making a rainbow over the surface. It was as if the Gentleman was about to tell a fortune with his set. 

“However,” The Gentleman sat back a little, his face becoming slightly shadowed with his eyes almost gleaming in the dark. “Nott has been the fourth person I’ve sent on this mission and I’m growing tired of loose ends. If you believe you can get her back, and complete her mission, I’ll put faith in you.”

Caleb thought for a moment, going over the proposition. At best, Caleb just wanted to know where she was and see if he could find her, but he was also hoping someone else would go with him. Could he bring Astrid and Eodwulf? No, that would be very, very bad. And then another thought came across his mind.

“Why put your faith in me?” Caleb’s voice was hoarse. “If this job has had so little success, why trust a person that’s just run into your establishment?”

The Gentleman chuckled slightly and then collected his cards and began to shuffled them again. Slower this time, more methodical. The cards were worn just enough that they were almost unusable, too many distinct wrinkles. The face cards were all devilish in appearance as well, at least when Caleb could see them.

“Do you play, Caleb?” The Gentleman started to separate the cards into little piles like he was dealing hands for more people than the two of them. “Any card games you’re familiar with?”

Caleb didn’t want to admit the fact that the only card game he’d ever played was a drinking with Astrid and Eodwulf that involved a goblet and many, many rules. “No, nothing special.”

“Hm, too bad.” The Gentleman finished dealing and he leaned forward again so his face was visible again. His expression was stoney, the slight smirk that had painted his lips was nowhere to be seen. “You see, I’m of the gambling variety of shady individuals that frequent this pub. I like risks. Sometimes to the detriment of myself and others.”

There was a slight tremble in Caleb’s hand, possibly from clenching it for too long, but he also felt too figured out at that moment. It was easy for Caleb to read other people, but it was a different feeling to have someone read him just as simply as he could. It made him uncomfortable.

“You and I have that in common, no?” The Gentleman’s head cocked slightly. “I took a risk sending Nott to the castle, she’s a good rogue but not so much on her own. You’re close with her, are you not?”

“She’s my best friend.” Caleb replied.

“Friends are risky, Caleb. I think you and I both know that.” The Gentleman’s face looked more shiny, as if he had been sweating a lot, but it never dripped down onto the table. “This castle, I’m sure Nott told you it’s cursed.”

Caleb nodded. “She mentioned it, ja.”

“There’s a beast that stalks the grounds,” The Gentleman explained. “It owns the heart of a young girl.”

Caleb rung his hands under the table, feeling the phantom pains of his scars. There was so much strain and tension in his arms and shoulders that when he finally took a breath they immediately slumped down. “H-How did it happen?” Caleb asked, intrigued by the idea of an interesting story.

But the Gentleman shook his head. “I don’t know, only hearsay. There used to be a family that lived there and then a beast came and killed everyone and stole the heart of the princess. That’s all the details I know.”

Caleb nodded, mildly disappointed there wasn’t more to the story.

“So,” The Gentleman sat up a little. “I suppose you better get going. If Nott is in danger, you’re going to need a quick exit out of the city.”

It was then the gravity of the situation hit Caleb again. That his best friend could be dead or dying or in grave peril. That he would be leaving Astrid and Eodwulf alone without a word. That he’d be putting himself in danger by going after Nott.

There were too many unknown variables, too much at stake for him. The part of him, however, that liked those chances, that likes the high reward of putting himself out there. He needs Nott, and he’s too curious about what could be lying in the castle for the taking. More than anything, he needs to get away from his friends.

“Yes,” Caleb stands up. “That I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out again to mids for beta'ing, the tru mvp  
> hopefully i'll get the next chp out next month  
> yell at me @gwenkota on tumblr and @windrivver on twitter


	4. One Winter's Night

When Caleb descended the stairs leading to the underground waterway, lead by one of the Gentleman’s associates, he saw his breath puff and plume in front of him. He hadn’t realised how cold it had gotten, he usually had his thick and bulky coat on. Spring was on the way, but this chill was coming from the north was faster and unforgiving. If only he had decided to go to the Menagerie Coast for this vacation, but they were limited to staying in the Empire.

Caleb allowed the individual to carry a torch, knowing that he could easily cast light with a flick of his wrist. Caleb also knew that he should use magic only when absolutely necessary. 

He didn’t have time to go back to his room in the inn to get the rest of his things but he had his books in his holsters. It was probably for the best that he didn’t have his academy robes with him. Most of his traveling clothes was pretty shabby, according to Astrid and Eodwulf, but he wasn’t really one for fashion. Better yet, the more he blended in, the better. It was a force of habit at this point.

They then reached a river, a fast flowing one, completely undetected from the city. Caleb had read about the sewers being a risk with bandits using them for quick getaways. Oh, but these people were  _ really _ shady. There was a long boat waiting the river with a cloaked passenger sitting at the front, the “captain” stood at the dock. It wasn’t a simple rowboat, it was made of metal and somewhat hardier, it also seemed to have a sort of mechanism that was making loud churning sounds, dark smoke emanating from it occasionally. The associate nodded to Caleb to get on and he obliged, though skeptical of this other passenger.

“Are you to accompany me?” Caleb asked as he stepped onto the boat.

“Yes,” Their deep drawl replied. “For awhile, at least.”

“Ah,” Caleb settled into a seat. “I suspected they wouldn’t let me go alone.”

They chuckled. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t get killed. You and me both got a lot ridin’ on this mission.”

Caleb nodded. Anxiety ate at his stomach the more he thought about the time and how he was losing it. He was itching to get to Nott as soon as possible. In his nervousness his fingers went to his bandages for a moment, though he fought the urge, knowing it would only irritate him more if he started. He squeezed his forearms with his arms crossed, almost like he was hugging himself. He turned to see what was keeping the captain when he saw that the Gentleman had come to see them off, handing a bag to the captain.

“Godspeed, Mr. Widogast.” The Gentleman waved slightly. “And Fjord.” he gestured to the hooded figure, “Good luck to you, as well.”

The old captain got onto the boat and they slowly started their voyage, casting off the rope that was tied to the dock. The Gentleman watched them leave and Caleb felt a chill run up his spine; either from the weather or a funny feelings, he couldn’t tell. The figure, Fjord, curled tighter into his robes.

It was too dark for the moment for Caleb to see under the hood, even with the lantern near the front, there were too many shadows concealing the identity of this individual. Caleb wasn’t claustrophobic by any means, but the inconsistent shape of the tunnels where the river ran was disorienting. Some parts looked to have been perfectly sculpted, possibly through magical means. Others were haphazard, like a creature had carved into the earth or a clever use of explosives from a mine had made it. Areas varied in height, with some having low ceilings, causing the group to duck under for short periods of time, the boat just barely fit.

“You said you had a lot riding on this mission,” Caleb piped up after a long while of listening to the boat chug in the rapid water. “Are you employed by the Gentleman?”

“Aye,” Fjord replied. “Well, sometimes I am. He and I have known each other for quite some time.” He rubbed the back of his neck through the hood. “I just uh… I knew someone in the castle we’re headin’ to.”

The Gentleman had said everyone had been killed by the Beast, so either Fjord knew someone who had died, or he knew the Beast. “What are you hoping to find there?” He pressed.

“‘Same as you,” Fjord said. “Hopin’ to save who’s ever been in trapped in there.”

“It’s been a long time, ja?” Caleb countered. “Since that incident.”

“Ten years at least,” He’s quiet for a moment, a same kind of pregnant pause that plagues Caleb’s speech whenever he gets lost in thought, then Fjord sighed. “I know, it seems like a lost cause, but… I chose to believe they’re still in there.”

Caleb nodded, leaning back into the side of the boat. He felt the waves move against the boat, a small spray of water hitting his back. “‘Suppose you think I’m foolish for believing that?” Fjord said, almost ashamed or defeated.

“Nein,” Caleb assured, realising his silence could be read as judgement. “I-I too, have my own beliefs. Selfish ones. Even the wisest of people hold onto wishful thinking, now and again.” Caleb wasn’t entirely convinced by his own words, his own wishful thinking were not simple daydreams or ‘what if’s. He had grand plans, long cons, and much, much more than minor aspirations.

“Well,” Fjord chuckled, almost hiccuping in his baritone voice. “I don’t know about wise, but I’m glad I’m not a lone believer in the impossible.”

Caleb agreed, nodding slightly. Fjord then took off his hood, much to Caleb’s surprise. For a while he was picturing a gruff old man, but Fjord had to be around the same age as Caleb, though the years fared much kinder to Fjord. He had green skin, with patches of a lighter tone about his face, a sort of pigment discoloration one would find most often on people with dark skin tones. Fjord’s dark hair had a sprinkling of grey at his forehead, whether it was from stress, age, or purely aesthetics was anyone’s game. Caleb could tell he was a half-orc, even if there were no signs of tusks protruding from his lips. A long pommel of a sword stuck up behind his left shoulder.

“I’m Fjord,” he held his hand out for Caleb. “By the way.”

“Caleb.”

“Nice to meet you, Caleb.” Fjord seemed to relax a little, after gauging Caleb’s reaction to his reveal. Caleb had no reason to distrust Fjord based on race, he knew well enough that there were evil people of all creeds and colors. In fact, Caleb couldn’t bring himself to fully distrust Fjord at all. Fjord seemed to be a simple mercenary with a cause, a person with good intentions with possibly shady ways of going about it. Caleb could relate.

After a couple hours of quiet and the occasional conversation, the boat turned a corner and a dim light came ahead. A wave of cold air came rushing through, Caleb popped the collar of his coat and lifted his scarf up closer to his mouth, enveloping himself in his clothes. A few flakes of snow blew past the boat, which steadily became more and more the closer to the exit they got. Ice was forming about the banks of the river, but the water was moving fast enough that it didn’t solidify, so only splinters of it cracked and broke as they rode through.

As they emerged from the caves, Caleb’s eyes began to sting from the wind and lightness of day. The river was surrounded on one side by a tall bluff and continued far into the distance, the other was forested hills that were getting a good coating of snow.

“We made great time,” Fjord commented, putting his hood back on. “‘Usually takes more than a day to make it to this part of the Empire on horseback. Though I don’t like the look of this storm.”

Caleb nodded. “Ja, how much further till we reach the castle?” He turned to the captain.

Stroking his short, white beard, “I’d say about an hour on foot. Can hardly see it but it’s up on that mountain, ya see?” with his shaking gloved hand, the captain pointed to the mountain the distance. Caleb could almost make out what looked like a bridge that connected the hills and bluffs to a turreted castle that sat imposing in the center of the looming rockface. “I’m only gonna take you a little bit further, you’ll have to walk the rest of the way. I’ll stay fer a few hours, but for both of yer sakes, I hope ya come back sooner.”

The motor on the boat stopped as the driver brought it to a halt on the bank. Fjord got out first, not afraid to get his feet wet even in the freezing water, before helping Caleb out. “I know a way in where we don’t have to climb the bluffs. But I hope you don’t mind stairs.”

Caleb was more than fine with stairs, half of Soltryce consisted of stairs. Caleb was, however, a little out of shape after the week of carriage travel it took to get to Zadash. He nodded, letting Fjord lead the way. The wind was beginning to pick up, and time was of the essence.

* * *

 

It took the pair of them over an hour to reach the base of the bridge leading to the castle, the ever growing snow and winds made them go slower. Fjord recalled that there was a secret door in the bluffs, one concealed by magic, and for a moment Caleb could sense it, too. He had a keen sense for the arcane, a gut feeling. Fjord put his hand up the rocks, running it along them until it vanished, he almost tripped into it.

“Hidden in plain sight,” Caleb commented, raising his voice to be heard over the strong winds. “How appropo.”

They entered, coming into a tight stairway made of smooth stone. Caleb assumed it was a guard tower of sorts, an easy passage way to keep an eye out around the perimeter. The place was infested with spiders and dust, snow coming in through the doorway to cover the floor and part of the stairs mixed with it. Some of the webs had become crystalized. There were a few crates at the bottom of the steps, leftover rations and supplies.

The wind traveled up the steps, howling and reverberating against it. It was really dawning on Caleb the gravity of the situation, that he was going to be brave for his friend and go into danger with no contingency plan. Would he have enough time to reach the boat, with or without Nott? Would he be willing to sacrifice Fjord to-

“Hold on,” Fjord held his arm out in front of Caleb. One of the crates creaked slightly, a web shifted. “I think there’s someone in here.” His voice was just a smidge higher than it usually was.

“Someone,” Caleb whispered. “Or some _ thing _ ?”

“Caleb could we perhaps not make this scary situation worse by bringin’ up the fact that whatever is in here with us-” A flash of brown and ginger came out and Fjord pulled out his sword in quick succession. Caleb scanned his mind in that instant for a spell to use when he realised there was no threat and then shielded it from Fjord.

“Wait!” Caleb cried. The two men froze, and saw that a skinny cat had come out from behind the crates. It looked up at them with its large green eyes before letting out the softest and saddest of meows. Caleb felt his brain and heart melt a little, mostly because it bared a striking resemblance to his childhood cat. He had almost forgotten about that cat.

The cat was on the defensive, trying to make itself look as big as possible with its high back and puffed up tail that moved back and forth very quickly. It’s eyes were looking a Fjord, and a low growl came out of it.

“Oh,” Caleb chided the cat. “It’s okay, ja? We don’t mean any harm.” Caleb signaled to Fjord to put his sword away.

“What are you doing?” Fjord hissed.

“The castle is enchanted, ja?” Caleb whispered. “What if this is one of it’s guides?”

“Or it’s just ah-” Fjord’s face twitched. “Ah..”

“Oh no you don’t.” Caleb hated the idea of putting his hands on Fjord’s face, but Caleb was sure that he was a loud sneezer and this tower had very good acoustics. Caleb’s bandaged and gloved palms muffled the sneeze considerably, though the cat hissed and backed up one of the stairs. Caleb rubbed his hands off on his pants and then held out his pointer finger, signaling Fjord to wait.

Caleb reached into his pocket to find one of his half eaten rations from earlier in the day. In his experience with feral cats, he knew they were more than willing to eat anything, so long as they trusted where it came from, but this was not a normal feral cat. The cat had curious markings, giving it a more exotic vibe, not an everyday tabby at all. That same gut feeling he got from the doorway to this tower he got when he locked eyes with the cat.

He started to mutter in Zeminian to the cat, assuring he wasn’t going to hurt the cat as he approached with food in his hand. The cat was slow to trust with good reason, though it seemed interested in the food Caleb was holding with its pupils getting wider for a moment. Caleb placed the food in between them and waited.

“Caleb we don’t-” Fjord objected but Caleb hushed him. Yes, Caleb needed to save Nott, that was very evident, but at that moment it was more imperative to get this cat to trust them. The cat was, after all, sitting on the step hindering them from going up. The cat, ever so slowly, sniffed the food and then began to eat it ravenously.

“Okay,” Caleb pointed up the steps. “We can go.” Fjord went on ahead, and Caleb followed, looking one last time to the cat before going up. The sound of their steps echoing as they went up. “Have you seen that cat before?” Caleb asked.

“Never.” Fjord replied. “Granted, I haven’t been here in almost a decade, but I wouldn’t ever expect to see anything like a cat here. I don’t know how a stray like that would last this long out in the wilderness.”

_ Only the cleverest of cats _ , Caleb thought. Caleb sometimes thought of himself as outsider, that he had changed too much to be integrated into the rest of the world. Too bad and too smart. It was odd for him to find two people in this world in one day that he could strangely relate to.

Fjord wasn’t kidding when he said there were a lot of stairs, and it didn’t take long for Caleb to feel a bit winded. His breath fogged up his every step, and every so often they’d run across a small patch of ice that would almost make them slip all the way back down. Caleb couldn’t help but notice that some of the steps looked to be falling apart, and he grew concerned that this tower was not as completely intact as they hoped.

And it was times like this when Caleb knew he was too clever for his own good, as they came across a section of stones and ice that blocked the path up. Fjord cursed in frustration. 

“You know what they say about things bein’ too good to be true.” He huffed, leaning against the wall. The two of them didn’t have the strength to push any of the rocks away, especially with the amount of ice that covered it. Caleb didn’t want to use magic in front of Fjord, fearing the man’s reaction to it, but they were in a hurry now and couldn’t afford to waste anymore time on niceties or going a different route. He rubbed his chapped lip in thought for a second before he plucked one of his books out of his holster, snapping it out of place. He remembered a spell from when he was studying it this morning, the only problem being that he’s only used it once in practice.

Fjord looked at Caleb quizzically as the mage flipped through his pages until he landed on  _ mold earth _ . It was a stupidly simple spell that anyone could do, but Caleb had never memorised it and so he went through the motions of committing the words to his tongue before touching the rocks and saying them out loud.

“ _ Etavacxe _ !” Caleb whispered, and the stones cracked and shook as they began to move and create a little path further. Fjord nearly stumbled down the steps as he watched the spell take place. The path Caleb made revealed the rest of the stairway and as soon as the stones settled Caleb pressed on. “Come now.”

“Wha- Caleb!” Fjord scrambled after Caleb, ducking under the cave Caleb made and falling in step behind him. “What the hell was that?”

“A spell.” Caleb muttered. “Surely you’ve seen magic before.” He looked over his shoulder to glance at Fjord. The man seemed frazzled, but also a bit impressed. Caleb knew the spell was nothing, but Fjord didn’t. It was  _ magic _ , afterall. 

The two men hurried up the stairs, the wind was picking up from what they assumed was the exit at the top. Fjord, however, kept pressing the issue. “Where did you study?” 

Caleb really didn’t want to talk about himself to this stranger, especially since  _ Fjord _ was the one that was supposed to be back up and all he’d done so far was sneeze at a cat and give up at a rockslide, but he knew if he didn’t satiate Fjord’s curiosity he would be insufferable for the rest of their mission. “I’m a scholar at Soltryce Academy.” He admitted.

“Really?” Fjord enthused. “How long have you been there? What do you study?”

“Fjord, I really don’t have-” Caleb got to the exit and stepped into a good foot of snow. In front of them laid a ramshackle courtyard, a high fence to the right of them, and the bridge to the left. The snow was coming down faster and thicker, so much that Caleb couldn’t see the castle on the other side of the bridge.

“C’mon,” Fjord pushed forwards. “We gotta get out of this blizzard.” Their steps were hindered by the drifts of snow but they did their best to press on. Caleb could barely feel his feet at all, and a shiver was cutting through him. Teeth chattering through the high pitched waves of winds.

_ I’m coming, Nott _ , he said,  _ I’m coming for you. _ Caleb thought about bringing flames to his hands, but the arcane nature of the fire would do very little, and the effect would not last long. It was too cold for how far south they were, but the arcane feeling in his stomach fluttered. Something either wanted to keep them out, or keep them in.

By the time they reached the door, Caleb had remembered that there’s supposed to be a Beast that roamed the castle, and fear solidified in him. He was at the devilish knockers with Fjord next to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to open.  _ What am I doing? Why am I doing this? _ As cold as he was, Caleb felt frozen in place.

“Caleb!” Fjord grabbed the back of Caleb’s coat, opening the door for them. “C’mon!”

Caleb gripped at Fjord’s arm. “Nein! No! The Beast!” Fjord pushed Caleb into the castle, though Caleb did try and dig his heels into the snow, but the loose flakes bared no purchase. They struggled getting in before Fjord slammed the door with both of them shivering in the foyer.

“ _ Are you insane?! _ ” Caleb wheezed. They both shook the snow off themselves and felt the snow slowly melt and chill them to the core.

“Are  _ you _ ?” Fjord retorted. “We were about to freeze to death out there!”

“You are _ far  _ too comfortable waltzing into a castle that is rumored to have a Beast that haunts it, mein freund.” Caleb gesticulated about, keeping his voice low but with the fervor of someone that was shouting. “This is a trap, isn’t it? You work for the Gentleman after all, I wouldn’t trust that man as far as I can throw him, and I certainly can’t throw him. Look at me, I’m so weak, I’m surprised none of those strong winds outside blew me awa-” Caleb was nervously rambling until Fjord gripped his shoulders.

“ _ Caleb. _ ” Fjord silenced him, his nails digging into his arms. Fjord’s eyes wandered behind Caleb; his odd, slanted pupils thinned in focus. “Don’t. Freak out.” 

“I cannot tell if you’re trying to say that to me or yourself.” Caleb replied. Slowly, Caleb turned his head and saw the tall painting that guarded the doorway leading further into the castle. The impressionist style was haphazard, and the lavender subject on the painting had so many busy designs on their coat. Caleb could’ve sworn the fabric of the coat was moving, but his eyes were still adjusting from the white of the snow. Though, the more Caleb squinted, the more he was certain that it  _ was  _ moving. “Scheisse, this place _ is _ haunted.”

“Haunted?” Fjord squeaked. The figure in the painting was standing, in a sort of regal pose, but they then turned and faced the two at the door.

“For godssake,” the painting sighed. “Who keeps telling you all this place is haunted, I ought to kill them for defamation.”

Caleb’s stomach dropped as he scrambled away from Fjord’s grip and tried the door. His way was blocked, however, by a greatsword that came down at the handles. The weapon was wielded by an animated suit of armor. Fjord pulled his sword out and, in a panic, Caleb’s fingers moved in a fashion to summon a flame at his fingertips and aimed at the painting and armor.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” The purple subject jumped out of frame. Flame did not hit the painting, but everyone was standing their ground, except for the painting subject, who peaked their head back into the picture. “Watch where you’re pointing that thing! This whole place could go up with a misplaced match.”

“What in the world is goin’ on here?!” Fjord pointed his sword at the painting, then at the armor, which posed more of a threat. No one said anything for a second, but as soon as the flames died in Caleb’s hands, the painting began to laugh.

“Well,” they leaned against the frame. “This is the most excitement I’ve seen in decades.  _ Centuries _ , even. Should’ve known when the goblin showed up that we’d be in for some excitement. Comedies always come in threes, after all.”

“Goblin?” Caleb’s heart pounded for a moment, rushing over to the painting. “Did you say goblin? Is she here?”

The style of the painting got more muddled the closer Caleb got to it, so the details of its subject were unclear, but he saw their red eyes peer into Caleb’s, the barest hint of an eyebrow quirk. “Yes,” They purred. “She’s here. I can take you to her if you and your friend here stand down.” There was something about the painting that exuded bullshit, and Caleb couldn’t help but remember what Fjord had said in the tower.

It  _ was _ entirely too good to be true; how hours had gone by since Nott’s message of distress, how everyone was more than willing to help Caleb. So while everything in Caleb was screaming to run away, to go back to Astrid and Eodwulf and Trent and survive, but not live… 

Caleb gestured to Fjord to put his sword away. “She’s safe, ja? This isn’t a trick?”

“We take very good care of our guests here.” The painting assured. Caleb kept his eyes trained on the art, and when he heard Fjord’s sword sheath back into place he straightened his spine. The painting sweeped their hand across themselves, the doorway leading to a hallway laid ahead. “Shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to thank Mids again for beta-ing, they the real mvp.  
> i swear to god i don't meant to keep pushing off caleb and jester meeting but i gotta put in all the exposition! i pinkie promise they'll meet next chapter, i got no business holding off any longer. i'm also aware that caleb doesn't have the cantrip mold earth but thats why its in his book, also its a transmutation spell so it works (ish (its my fan fic and I GET TO CHOSE THE AU SPELLS!)) also borrowing the DC comics method of somatic spells just being words backwards.  
> if i dont update in the next couple weeks u have my permission to yell at me on twitter and tumblr (not really im sensitive, aubrey!)


	5. No Sir, Not Me

Zedash was a busy city, yet the steady snowfall started to deafen the sound of carts and carriages that went past the little inn that Astrid and Eodwulf were staying in. The snow was unseasonable this far south, and it reminded the two wizards of Rexxentrum. Snow would come down in heaps and leave the entire city in a blanket of cold powder. It would pile up so high that windows would sometimes get blocked and whole legs would get submerged. There were many times where the three of them, Caleb included, would run out in the snow and play like the kids they once were. Before their lives changed.

Astrid liked snow, though she was craving warm weather more than anything. They were hoping to go as far as Nicodranas but Ikithon wanted to keep a shorter leash on Caleb, though that plan didn’t seem to be going so well.  _ We don’t always get what we want _ , Astrid thought as she wrapped her robe around herself, staring out into the street.

“So he left, eh?” Eodwulf lounged in the bed they had just shared. “Good riddance, if you ask me.”

“I wasn’t.” Astrid huffed. “Gods, he could die out there.”

“That’s my point.” Eodwulf had his arms behind his head, feeling awful proud of himself. “This is a test, ja? See if Bren was really on our side. Look what happened, he takes off the first moment he could.”

“He could still come back,” Astrid turned to Eodwulf. “We can’t track him, not with that godsforsaken necklace on. We could try to track him down the old fashioned way but what if we’ll lose all the trust that we’ve been building up for the last five months?” She started to bite her thumbnail, a habit she’s never outgrown from her intense study sessions. “Even worse, what’s Ikithon going to do when he finds out that we’ve lost him?”

Eodwulf held his arm out, gesturing for Astrid to come to him. She wanted to be mad at him, mad at his insensitivity and poor work ethic, but she crawled back into bed with him. Eodwulf slid his arm around her side, the faint glow from a crystal underneath the skin of his arm, holding her hand to keep her from biting her nails.

“We’ll get him back,” Eodwulf kissed her knuckles. “If it means that much to you.”

“You used to like him too, Wulf.”

“Ja, I did,” Eodwulf gripped Astrid’s hand, almost too forcefully. “Until he betrayed us. Bren was always so resilient, I looked up to him, and now look how he is.”

“ _ Caleb _ ,” Astrid corrected, “Is fine how he is. He’s just… different, now.”

“ _ Tsk _ ,” Eodwulf rolled his eyes. “He’s holding us back, and you know it.” Astrid looked into his eyes, wanting to challenge him. She felt a little caught between two men, how she wanted to maintain a close bond between both of them, like how it used to be. Maybe Astrid was holding onto nostalgic ideals.  _ We don’t always get what we want _ . 

She relaxed a little in his arms, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “Ikithon wants him,” She says, her voice as distant as Caleb was. “If we want to save our skins, we have to get him back. That’s all that matters.”

* * *

Architecture had been a secret interest of Caleb’s for a long time, ever since he was accepted into Soltryce Academy. There were many secrets hidden in the beveling and framing that were embedded into the walls of the school, and this castle was no different. Lavishly decorated, the hall was lined with portraits and landscapes of far off places and people of all kinds of colors and creeds, suits of armor standing in attention. Every so often, though, Caleb’s eyes would catch a scribble on the wall, poking out behind suits of armor and the picture frames, as if a child had found hiding places for their art.

“The name’s Mollymauk, by the way,” the painted figure hid behind a weeping willow tree in a landscape painting. The long strands of the tree sweeping over their shoulders and horns. “Molly to my friends.”

Caleb grunted acknowledgingly, not caring to introduce himself, nor did Fjord feel terribly inclined to greet the animated subject. Caleb got the sense that there were parts of the castle that were more enchanted than others, Mollymauk was an anomaly in what he knew to be possible. There were objects that had a layer of magic to it that made it different than average, while others were rooted in the arcane. Caleb was already soaked to the bone, his teeth chattering slightly, but there was something about the place that made him buzz in anticipation.

Caleb expected the place to be decrepit, that whatever great beast lurked here had done its worst and made the place completely uninhabitable. He was starting to wonder if he should’ve believed the rumor about the beast, because everything seemed too nice. Too put together. He was on guard, yes, but magic of this castle made him feel heightened. It was a similar feeling to Soltryce, where the ground itself felt like it had been replaced with arcane stone. Or, at least how he used to feel about the academy. This place, however, just felt full of it; as if it was a glass that was brimming with wine.

“A moment.” Mollymauk reached a large painting that bordered a closed double door and slid out of the frame and out of sight. Fjord and Caleb were left alone for the time being.

“You’ve been here before, ja?” Caleb inquired. “Has it always been, you know, enchanted?”

Fjord shook his head, dumbfounded. “No, not at all. Well, there were  _ elements _ of magic around, just like the rest of the world, but nothing extraordinary.” The half-orc seemed uncomfortable in this place, unsettled by the strangeness. Caleb couldn’t blame him, could sympathize, even.

Mollymauk’s devilish face returned to the frame, poking their head in. “Come on in, you’re just in time for dinner.” There was almost a sinister tone to the painting’s words, a slight wrinkle in his eye that hinted towards mischief more than merriment. Caleb glanced at Fjord for a moment, gauging his expression and figuring that they both were terrified. They could stand there all day and possibly live, but Caleb was feeling a little bold, a little fearless, and needed to make sure Nott was okay.

His bandaged hands felt clammy from the cold and nervousness, and they chilled as his hand slipped over the handle of the door. Turning it, the door opened with a creak. The smell of meat and bread and a fireplace hit him in the face first, then he could see a full feast laid in the room before them. The only light from the room came from the fireplace and the candelabras that sat in the middle of the table.

Dinner, indeed. Caleb opened the door more and saw Nott at the far end of the table, hastily eating, making the largest mess possible. She looked up, her slitted pupils widened. “Caleb?” she gasped, though it sounded more like “Gyyebb?”. Without really thinking, he stormed into the room to Nott, going to kneel by her chair.

The goblin wrapped her arms around Caleb, getting some food on him but he didn’t care. He felt himself shaking from relief, his whole focus on Nott. “Thank gods you’re alright, Nott.” He murmured. Caleb removed himself from Nott, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “You are alright, ja?”

“Oh yes,” Nott nodded. “ _ More  _ than alright! See, I’m eating a great meal. I’m, very toasty by this fire. And now you’re here!”

“Ja,” Caleb agreed. “All of those are good things. But you had messaged me, asking for help. I-I got worried…” Nott’s eyes glanced over Caleb’s shoulder, seeing Fjord come up behind them.

“Who are  _ you _ ?” Nott asked suspiciously. Fjord looked a little floored, loss for words. “Wait! I’ve seen you before. You’ve been at the Evening Nip before!”

“Well, yeah.” Fjord acknowledged. “Yeah, I have. The name’s Fjord.” He held his hand out for Nott, who reluctantly returned the greeting after Caleb encouraged her to. Fjord looked around the dining room, the vaulted ceiling with an unlit chandelier. From the corner of his eye, Caleb saw the purple devil step into the painting that rested above the fireplace. They took an apple from the bowl in the picture and proceeded to eat it.

“You’re all welcome to eat,” Mollymauk said. Glancing about the space, their eyebrows furrowed for a second before a sly grin emerged on their lips. “Nott, wherever did the mistress go?”

Nott looked at the other side of the table, where a plate of messily eaten food was placed. “Wh- She was there just a second ago!”

There was the softest sound of a giggle that came from somewhere in the room. If Caleb wasn’t already cold, he’d feel a chill run down his spine.

“Are you sure this place isn’t haunted?” Caleb whispered, not to anyone in particular, but he was kind of hoping for some divine intervention at that moment so he supposed he was whispering to any god that cared.

There was a flap of the table cloth that made Caleb and Fjord jump a little, a blue spaded tail whipping back and forth before slipping back under the table. Another giggle, though it seemed more evident that it was coming from under the table. Caleb and Fjord’s eyes landed on each other, giving each a sort of “do you want to check it out?” look. Neither of them looked thrilled at the prospect.

Mollymauk seemed amused, however; contently biting into their apple and wiping their mouth almost seductively. Nott seemed strangely calm and Caleb thought that if she was calm that it either meant she was drunk or everything was okay. She seemed to be hiding a bit of a smile, which was difficult with all her jutting and jagged teeth. Whatever was going on, Caleb wanted it to be over. So he slowly, tentatively, kneeled down and started to grip the hem of the tablecloth.

Fjord gasped a little, which startled Caleb. He glared up at the half-orc, who gave Caleb an apologetic look. Caleb took a deep breath before lifting up the tablecloth and peeking into the space underneath it. It was near pitch under the table, a subtle glow coming from the fireplace, but not enough for Caleb to see anything. Nothing, until a pair of glittering purple eyes blinked into the dark. 

Caleb’s breath escaped his chest with a slam and he felt his heart beat crazily against his ribcage. The eyes were getting closer as the sound of claws tapped across the floor, something scraping against the bottom of the table. Caleb felt frozen then as he had before, outside. Gods, this was the Beast! 

It slinked over to Caleb and when it was revealed in light, Caleb saw it’s goat like features; four horns, square pupils, peach fuzz fur and long, dark blue curly hair. Its teeth were bared in a mischievous grin, imposing fangs dipping into its bottom lip. It’s Y-shaped nose wiggled a little, sniffing Caleb as it leaned in a little before wincing and nearly bashing its head against the table in taken back disgust.

“Oof!” The Beast’s high pitched voice groaned, it’s horns getting caught in the tablecloth. Caleb felt this was a good moment to put some space between him and the Beast, crawling away on his bottom and spilling out every Zemnian swear he could think of.  He looked to Nott and Fjord as for what to do. Fjord’s hand was at his sword, preparing for an attack, but the Beast seemed to still be struggling with the tablecloth until Nott pulled it of its head.

“Thank you so much, Nott!” The Beast praised. It spoke, it spoke  _ Common _ . It was  _ friendly _ to Nott. This Beast wasn’t a raving creature that stalked the halls of a destitute castle it was-

“There you are, Mistress Jester.” The painting greeted, throwing the apple core behind their back. “Please say hello to our new guests. They’re coming in like ants to a crumb.” They gestured to Nott. The Beast, Jester, looked at Caleb.

“I don’t want to be rude,” she said quietly to Caleb, who was still on the ground. Crawling out from under the table, she kneeled down on her hooved feet and leaned in. “But you are a little stinky, we have baths here if you want to bathe because I’d hate to smell bad and no one tell me.” She was rambling a bit before she looked at him expectantly.

Caleb looked at her dubiously, completely nonplussed by her comment. His mouth quivering, unable to really wrap his head around the whole thing but he sputtered whatever he could say, “I-I have only just met you.”

“Hi, I’m Jester.” She held out her clawed hand. It was fuzzy, with dark pads on her palm and fingertips, almost like a paw. Curved nails extended the length of her hand by half an inch.

Caleb couldn’t bring himself to shake her hand, not when he felt like he was still trembling, though he was mildly tempted to see if her hand was as soft as he assumed it was. “H-hi, I’m… Caleb.”

Jester seemed mildly put out by Caleb’s hesitance to shake his hand, but she played it off by shaking her hand a little as if he was holding her hand. “Nice to meet you, Cay-leb.” Her lilting accent made his name sound almost strange, but she seemed to enjoy saying it. It was then that her eyes landed on Fjord and her face seemed to drop. “ _ Fjord?” _

Jester got up from under the table, surprising both Fjord and Caleb with her tall stature. She then threw herself at Fjord, taking him down in a slam that even Caleb felt. He stood up and went to Nott, the two of them unsure of what to do. Jester had to be about seven feet tall, her body covered in a sort of makeshift dress that didn’t quite fit her. Her long tail whipped about back and forth, the spaded tip almost hitting Caleb. If Jester was attacking Fjord, Caleb thought his instinct to attack and help him was justified, but her body language didn’t seem aggressive.

“Oh my gosh Fjord I never thought I’d see you again!” Jester cooed at the downed half-orc, who looked equal parts scared shitless and confused. _ This was much more complicated than anticipated _ , Caleb thought. 

Fjord’s eyebrows knitted, his cheekbone twitching in thought and bewilderment. And then a realization dawned on him, and the beast looked down at him earnesty. “Je-... Jester?”

The beast squealed, wrapping Fjord into their arms and jumping up onto their hooves. “Ohmygosh! Fjord! I’m so glad to see you! I can’t tell you how much I missed you!” Fjord’s legs went swinging around as Jester flailed about in excitement. Caleb and Nott could only look on in dumbfoundedness, though Nott seemed to have already on the receiving end of one of Jester’s hugs.

“Caleb.” Nott hissed, pulling on his coat.

“Ja, Nott?”

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“Ah, nein, I don’t.”

“Oh, okay. Just, making sure I wasn’t the only one.”

After Fjord complained fervently to have Jester put him down, she relented. She seemed to misjudge the distance a little and Fjord nearly tripped on his own feet before he tried to collect himself, adjusting his cloak and armor. The two of them laughed a little, her height seemed to be particularly difficult for Fjord to grasp.

“Wow, uh.” Fjord rubbed the back of his neck, nervously. “You’ve certainly grown since the last time we saw each other.”

Jester giggled uncomfortably. “Oh yeah, well you know how it is. Drinking milk, good genes…” Jester trailed off, giving Fjord a big toothy grin. Fjord nodded, seemingly in on the bit.

There was an awkward air to the whole thing as everyone settled into thorny silence. Mollymauk cleared their through, the sound cutting through the crackling fire and howling wind. “Well, let’s not let the food get cold. Caduceus slaved away making it, after all.” Everyone agreed, and it really hit Caleb how hungry he was. He was exhausted from the trek to the castle, and he hadn’t eaten since this morning.

Jester settled back into her seat, messily eating her food. She and Nott made up poor manners bookends at the table. Fjord and Caleb sat down on either side of the table, with Caleb as far away from the fireplace as humanly possible, which was a detriment to him with his wet clothes. The least he could do was take off his coat and scarf, pulling his sleeves down to cover up his bandages as best as possible.

This was hardly the first time Caleb has found himself at a dining table where this meal could be his last, but he couldn’t deny the pain that wrapped around his stomach. As he started to eat, he glanced at Jester, attempting to try and figure out just  _ what _ she was. The weaving of magic that draped over her was like a knotted puzzle, so many strings from different places. He was looking at her too long, too focused on trying to figure her out that when their eyes met he felt his face go warm as he glanced away. A giggle percolated through her teeth.

The sound of wheels came up to Caleb as he noticed the teacart that rolled to a stop by his chair. The teapot was a pleasant green color, decorated with soft pink flowers. A face appeared, a calm smile spreading across the porcelain surface.

“Care for some tea?” the teapot had a startling deep voice. Caleb looked around quickly, seeing if this was possibly a trap, but everyone else seemed engrossed in their meal. Caleb shook his head, and the teapot blinked in understanding.

“You know,” Caleb rubbed his growing beard nervously. “I only came here to make sure you were safe, Nott. I seem to have accomplished that goal, so what I would like to know is what your plan is?”

Nott stilled her eating, a look of guilt washed over her face. She gulped, possibly to ingest her food but also to admit some terrible news. “Well, plans seemed to have changed, Caleb.” She looked at Jester. “Originally, I was going to take a bunch of stuff and get some gold from the Gentleman. Possibly slay whatever creature was haunting this place.” Jester growled, though it came off as playful.

“But, because Jester is the lady of the house, I have to stay here.”

Caleb’s jaw clenched and brows wrinkled. “W-what do you mean?”

“Nott trespassed,” Mollymauk replied. “Her intentions were harmful, so she must be held prisoner. Per the mistress’ decree.”

Jester seemed oddly pleased by the whole thing, an off putting joy that deeply unsettled Caleb. Nott, however, also seemed to accept her fate. All her nerves seemed to come from telling Caleb the bad news.

“Jes,” Fjord turned to the Beast. “Don’t you think you’re being unreasonable? Nott didn’t know you’d be, well,  _ you _ . I’m sure Nott wouldn’t’ve hurt you if she knew how accommodating you are.”

Jester waved her hand dismissively, though she spoke animatedly. “I know I know, but I’ve never actually captured someone that’s broken in, you know? They either always run away or I have to kill them before they kill me and that’s always so scary and I feel like  _ super _ bad afterwards because everyone has to clean it up-”

“Jester!” Fjord halted her rant.

She took a deep breath, continuing to explain, though at a considerably slower pace. “Besides, I’m not  _ really _ going to keep her prisoner. Like I have a dungeon but it’s not very nice, and I like Nott so she can sleep in a bedroom! She can’t leave, though.”

Caleb stammered the beginning of a response, feeling frustrated by Jester’s blasé point of view. “Th-That  _ is _ a prisoner, though.”

“Pfft,” Jester scoffed. “Yeah, I know it’s technically a prisoner, technically, Cay-leb. But Nott is my friend now! And I’ve been alone for a while and having a new friend would be nice, don’t you think, Nott?” Jester’s whole demeanor seemed to change, as if she was making herself look smaller than she was. There was a glimmer of something almost human. That’s what scared Caleb the most.

Nott turned to Caleb, stepping up onto the table and grabbing his attention. “I know it’s not ideal, Caleb, but this is possibly the best situation for me! I don’t have to steal things, I’ll be in one place so you can visit me anytime you like, and look!”  Nott picked up a goblet from the table spilled all of the contents onto the floor, the dark red wine splattered all over the marble floor in an disturbing image. When Nott held the goblet upright again, it was filled up again. Nott seemed terribly charmed by the prospect of never ending wine.

Caleb didn’t want to admit that she was, in a way, correct about the whole thing. Nott’s never ending struggle with the law of the Empire and her hard to find nature was a hassle, so if she stayed, she would be less of a risk for the both of them. To be held prisoner in a magic castle by a Beast such as Jester, however, was no way to live, even if Caleb’s own views of how he lived his life were slightly skewed.

“I can’t let you do this, Nott.” Caleb said, his fists tightening around the arms of his chair. “Not alone, at least.”

Jester’s long, fuzzy ears perked a little. “Alone?” she purred.

“Caleb, you don’t need to do this,” Nott pleaded. “You’ve got a life to go back to! Your friends would miss you…”

When Caleb thought about his friends, he imagined what they looked like ten years ago. The youthful shine to them was diminishing, but the care and affection between them was still present. It was there, and then suddenly it wasn’t once Caleb came back to them. All that time in a cell, never once seeing them except when they weren’t really there. When Astrid kissed him now it felt sour, when Eodwulf feigned friendship it felt artificial. Caleb couldn’t conjour the feelings he once had for his friends, they were frozen over.

He shook his head, rubbing his arms. “Nein, I-I insist, Nott. There is… no life to live if you are not there.”

Nott’s lip quivered before she launched herself into Caleb, knocking the wind out of him a little, he recovered quickly before returning the hug. He was involuntary shaking a little, the fear of the situation sunk into his bones.

Jester gasped, shaking the table a little as she slammed her claws onto the surface. “You should  _ all _ stay with me!” She held her furry arms out to gesture everyone at the table “Yes, yes! Oh my gosh it will be just like when we were kids, Fjord!”

Fjord moved his jaw uncomfortably. “Well,” he cleared his throat. “That sounds like a mighty fine proposition, Jester. Unfortunately,  _ I’m _ here to get  _ you _ .” 

Jester’s face dropped, her head tilting slightly. “What do you mean?”

Fjord forced his eyes closed, it seemed to be a challenge, whatever Fjord was working to saying. “I  _ mean _ , that I have orders to bring you to Zadash.”

Fjord had been incredibly vague the entire journey to this castle, and Caleb allowed him to keep things close to his chest if it meant that Caleb could do the same for himself. All Fjord had told him was that he was looking to save someone that was trapped in the castle, and aside from Nott and Caleb, the only person who could possibly be “trapped” is  _ Jester _ .

“But Fjord,” Jester chided. “I can’t leave. I’m not allowed.” She sunk into her chair a little, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her tail around her legs.

“Is it ah,” Caleb interjected, recollecting something from his mind that could be some sort of use. “A spell of some kind? I do not see any physical restraints, and I would assume if you wanted to leave you would’ve done so already, ja?”

Caleb noticed the rings that adorned her claws, they gleamed in the candlelight and would seem comically large on a normal hand but seem to fit her monsterous digits perfectly, all except one tiny sapphire. Her fingers gripped her knees, curling into the shaggy fur that covered them.

“You know,” Caleb set Nott down onto the floor, leaning his forearms onto the table with his fingers interlaced, a position that Caleb had picked up from the Academy. “I am adept in the arcane arts, Jester. I might be able to help you.” Spells, lies, and propositions made up Caleb’s arsenal. As much as Caleb would like to hide away from the world in a castle such as this, he wanted to do it on his own terms, and he gathered that if he found a way to get Jester out, perhaps he could lock himself in. Keep himself away from anyone that could possibly hurt him, or vice versa.

There was a shine to Jester’s eye in that moment, but it was quickly snuffed out before she replied. “That’s very nice of you Caleb, I do appreciate the offer…” She fidgeted in her chair, as if something was poking into her back and she couldn’t get comfortable again. “But it’s not a simple spell,  _ I’ve _ tried it before. It’s a curse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to Mids for...proofreading? beta-ing? editing?? idk, they just leave comments on my google docs like spelling mistakes and "WIFE CITY" over and over again. I love them, so I thank them.
> 
> Next chapter should come up in the next couple weeks, spring break is on the horizon for me so looking forward to getting a lot done in that time.
> 
> thank you for the kudos and comments! and thank you in advance for adding more ;)
> 
> be sure to scream ur joy or suffering to my tumblr gwenkota and my twitter windrivver


End file.
